


Love Of My Life

by Elle_Writes_4



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Wedding (kind of), and some angst, but don't worry it gets happy again, canon differences, it gets sad real fast, seriously there is some tooth rotting fluff in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 00:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Writes_4/pseuds/Elle_Writes_4
Summary: “I promise. I promise, I will come back. When it’s safe,” Crawley ran his thumb against the angel’s cheekbone, “I’ll come back to you. I’ll always come back to you.”Aziraphale smiled, before he pulled Crawley into him to place a soft kiss on his lips. After a minute, Crawley leaned back, a playful smile splayed on his face.“In the meantime,” Aziraphale nearly jumped when Crawley released his wings in the small room, and confusion resting itself comfortably in him when Crawley pulled a feather off his wing, hissing as it came loose under his touch, “Have this. As something to remember me by. Y’know, when you’re missing me or whatever.”He placed the black feather into Aziraphale’s hand, who held it gingerly and knew he was going keep it safe for as long as he lived.orAziraphale and Crowley have been together for the majority of time on Earth, and each time Crowley has to leave, he gives Aziraphale a gift to remember him by until they meet again. This fic follows their relationship as it grows from the near beginning to present day.





	Love Of My Life

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a prompt by where-is-my-life-9 on tumblr! Sorry if there's any formatting issues- I copy and pasted this from word and don't have time to fix the errors

Crawley found Aziraphale in a tavern, of all places.

It had been about a century since the angel and demon had last seen each other, the last time being on The Ark. It had been the longest amount of time they had ever spent together, and much to Aziraphale’s surprise, he found that he didn’t actually mind Crawley’s presence. His company, which if asked he would refuse admit it, was actually quite enjoyable. When the rain had finally died down and the dust had settled, Aziraphale had almost been disappointed when it had been time to part from him, and found himself secretly hoping that he would see his Hereditary Enemy again soon.

Which was ironic, since now all he wanted was Crawley to _leave_.

“Fancy meeting you here, angel. Didn’t take you to be too much of a day drinker.” Aziraphale kept his eyes down at his glass, ignoring Crawley completely.

Crawley let a few seconds pass by, waiting for Aziraphale to take the bait and join in on the playful banter the two had begun to establish as the normal way of communication between them. Once Crawley realized that Aziraphale wasn’t going to answer him, he spoke again.

“C’mon, Aziraphale, you can’t ignore me forever. Well, I reckon you _could_, but then where would be the fun in that?” Aziraphale could practically hear the smile in Crowley’s voice.

The truth was, Aziraphale was properly wasted. He had spent the majority of the day here, performing quick miracles to make anyone realize that they suddenly had to leave if they found it suspicious that he hadn’t yet passed out from the copious amounts of alcohol that was currently pumping through his veins. He didn’t have the energy nor the mental capacity to banter with Crawley. Aziraphale knew that despite the warm and friendly disposition Crawley wore whenever they were around each other, they weren’t really friends. They couldn’t be. They weren’t quite enemies either, though, the fact that they had regularly ran into each other every few years and didn’t try to kill the other was proof of that, but calling whatever they were friends felt a bit far. Friendly enemies? No, that didn’t feel right either.

Aziraphale was torn from his thoughts when a gentle hand placed itself carefully on his shoulder. If he hadn’t been so drunk, he would have flinched from the touch, jumped up and asked the demon just _what _did he think he was doing. But since Aziraphale had enough alcohol in his system to properly kill a human, all the touch did was cause him to lift his head from his drink to his shoulder. He stared at the hand disbelievingly, surprised at the fact that one, a demon was touching him and it didn’t burn, and two, _Crawley _was touching him with such care and affection that a demon shouldn’t be able to have that it hardly felt real.

“Angel?” Crowley’s playful tone was gone, his voice somehow more tender than his touch.

Aziraphale tore his gaze from Crowley’s hands to his eyes, the demon’s concerned expression deepening when he saw the unshed tears floating in Aziraphale’s eyes. He lifted his other hand as if to place them on the angel’s cheeks, freezing halfway through when he looked around at the people around them, frowning.

“Why don’t we get out of here? Do you have a place nearby that you’re staying at?”

There was a small, sober voice in Aziraphale’s head that was screaming to tell him no, to tell him to go away and leave him be.

However, there was also a bigger, drunker voice in his head that was telling him to say _yes_.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a few wrong turns and almost falling flat on the ground, Aziraphale finally lead Crawley back to the inn he was staying at. Along the way, Aziraphale began to stumble so terribly that Crawley had wrapped his arm under Aziraphale’s, helping him walk straight and letting Aziraphale lean on him. Yes, at any time Aziraphale could have sobered up, but he had gotten drunk for a reason, and he didn’t want to face that reason with a clear mind.

The room Aziraphale was staying in was small, with barely enough room for one person. It was clearly meant to be something to sleep and rest at, not anything to get comfortable and relax in all day. Crawley began to lead Aziraphale towards the bed as soon as they entered, careful not to move the angel too abruptly. He sat Aziraphale down gently, placing his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders when he started to sway.

“What’s going on, Aziraphale? Did they make you listen to _celestial harmonies _again?”

Much like a child, Aziraphale shook his head, refusing to meet Crowley’s gaze.

“No? No as in you won’t tell me, or no to the celestial harmonies bit?” Aziraphale could tell he was trying to keep this as light hearted as possible, but he could hear the concern hiding beneath his words.

Aziraphale stared at his hands, quiet tears falling from his eyes that were invisible to Crawley.

“C’mon, angel, you can tell me,” Crawley paused, before adding softly, “I’m here for you.”

“It’s just not _fair_,” Aziraphale finally muttered, his voice shaky and slurring, “’It’s not fair _at all_.”

He finally looked up at Crawley, who as soon as he saw the angel’s tears sat himself down next to Aziraphale.

“What’s not fair?” Crawley raised his hand as if he were going to wipe away some of his tears, but then retracted it back to his lap, thinking better of it.

“A-all those people, _dead_. Children, Crawley, _Children!_” A sob broke free from his chest, and Aziraphale placed his head in his hands.

He felt Crawley place his arms around him, his hands rubbing comforting circles on his arms.

“What are you talking about, angel? Who’s dead? Wait,” Crawley blinked, realization dawning upon him, “Are – are you talking about the flood?”

“Of _course _I am Crawley!” Aziraphale shot his head up, giving the demon a miserable look, “How can that be right? We’re _supposed _to be good! _Protect _people! From evil! And yet in their time of need, we were told to just watch them _die_? How can that be good?”

“Aziraphale...”

“The only reason not all of them died was because of _you_,” Another sob escaped his lips, “And you’re supposed to be bad! You’re a _demon_, for Heaven’s sake! You shouldn’t have cared! But you did! You cared more than any angel- than the Almighty herself! How could she let that happen? How is that supposed to be in the Ineffable Plan?” 

“Aziraphale,” Crawley’s concern quickly melted with fear, his eyes wide, “Angel, you’re right. There was nothing good about all those people dying. But you can’t question Heaven. Or her. _Especially _not her.”

“Why? You just said-”

“I- I _know _what I just said, angel, but you have to listen to me. Promise me you won’t question Heaven again. _Promise _me.” Crawley was staring at him with such an intensity that it was hard for Aziraphale to comprehend what he was saying.

“I don’t understand...”

“You could _Fall, _Aziraphale. I- I can’t let that happen. Not to you.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows knit in confusion, and he stared at Crawley as if he were trying to solve a difficult math problem.

“Why do you care?” He asked finally.

“What?” Crawley blinked in surprise, not expecting Aziraphale’s question.

“Why do you care if I should Fall? If anything you should be _encouraging _me. If you were to get an angel to fall, you’d certainly receive something higher than a commendation. So why stop me?”

“I already told you, Aziraphale. I don’t want you to Fall.” Crawley’s fear was beginning to fall back into fond concern.

“But _why_?”

Crawley stared at him, hopeless.

“Because...” His voice trailed off, his eyes carefully scanning Aziraphale’s face.

He leaned forward suddenly, his lips crashing against Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale surprised himself when he found himself kissing Crawley back without any hesitation, surprised to find that it was him who was pushing his tongue to taste the inside of Crawley’s mouth. Crawley froze for a second when he realized the kiss wasn’t one-sided, but only for a second before he regrouped himself to match Aziraphale’s intensity. It wasn’t a beautiful kiss; it was sloppy, the way two celestial beings who had never kissed before but spent ages watching others do it, one being thinking about what it would feel like to kiss a certain angel and the other trying desperately _not_ think of how much he wanted to do it with a certain demon.

Aziraphale felt his hands move themselves onto Crawley’s face, not being able to ignore the fact that this felt _right_-

“Wait,” Aziraphale pulled back suddenly, feeling breathless at both the kiss and the fact that there was suddenly no more alcohol in his body. 

Crawley blinked a few times, mind still trying to process what just happened.

“No, no this, this is _wrong_\- I can’t, you-” Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he stood up, a pang of hurt flashing across his heart as realization lit up his mind.

“Oh you- you really _are _a wily serpent, aren’t you?” The thought of being used caused his eyes to sting again, and anger flare in his chest.

“Aziraphale, what on _Earth _are you talking about?” Crawley’s dazed expression had been replaced by stark confusion.

“Making me think that you actually _care, _that you didn’t want me to Fall, just so you could make me give into temptation! And just to think that I, I was just starting to _trust _you!” Aziraphale crossed his arms and, for the third time that night, refused to meet Crawley’s eyes.

“_What?_ Aziraphale- angel, _no_,” He stood up quickly, placing his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders before he could think twice about it.

“You _know _me-”

“But I don’t!” Aziraphale turned to face him suddenly, betrayal strewn all over his face, “We’ve only ran into each other a few times, the longest we’ve ever spoken was on The Ark, and that’s not enough, that’s not _nearly _enough…”

“Angel. Do you remember that time, in that little village that we both hated so much a few centuries ago, where another demon ran into us while we were talking?” Crawley’s voice was oddly calm, a silent determination hidden in his words.

Aziraphale nodded, unable to find his words.

“Remember what I told you to do?”

“Y-you told me to hide.” Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed together, not quite sure what Crawley was getting at.

“Why would I have done that if I didn’t care for you?” Crawley slid his hands from Aziraphale’s shoulders to his cheeks, holding his face with a type of affection that would be unbecoming to a demon.

“Well, to protect yourself. You would have gotten in trouble for talking to an angel so casually.” Even as the words left his mouth, Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to truly believe them.

“You really think that? You really think I couldn’t have started a fight with you right then and there, had that other demon join in and help me to save my own skin?” He paused, giving Aziraphale time to respond, only continuing when it was clear that the angel wasn’t ready to speak, “Angel, you’re the closet thing I’ve got to a friend here, and even more than that, I- I have _feelings _for you. Strong feelings. Y’know, the human kind.”

He laughed humorlessly, and tore his eyes away from Aziraphale’s.

“I- I can’t believe I just said that. I know that it’s hard to believe, being a _demon_ and all,” He brought his eyes slowly back up to Aziraphale’s, who was finding it harder and harder not to be mesmerized by the demon’s lips, “But we don’t have to do this. If you don’t want to. We can go back to the way things were, I’ll pretend this never happened, and-”

“Kiss me again.” Aziraphale was only half listening, the majority of his brain primarily focused on how wonderful it had felt when Crawley’s lips were on his.

“Wha- pardon?” Crawley stared at him as if he misheard what Aziraphale had said.

“Kiss me again. Before I change my mind.”

Crawley studied Aziraphale’s eyes carefully, and slowly brought his lips down to his. Aziraphale kissed him back immediately, their lips moving together in perfect sync. Crawley’s lips were slow, tentative, testing the waters to see if the angel would back out again. When it became clear that he wasn’t, the kiss grew more desperate, and it was Crawley’s turn to deepen the kiss. It felt like Heaven- not the cold, heartless one that Aziraphale worked for, but the one that humans often felt like Heaven would be. _How could this be wrong_? He thought to himself, _how could this be giving into temptation when it feels like coming home?_

Crawley’s hand slip down Aziraphale’s side, and he quickly realized that the demon was trying to pull his robe off-

“No wait.” Aziraphale breathed against Crawley’s lips.

An exasperated sigh escaped Crawley’s mouth, before he said, “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind again.” Despite his tone, he let go of Aziraphale’s clothing, immediately quitting in his attempt to undress him.

“No, no it’s not that,” Aziraphale pulled back enough so he could look Crawley in the eyes, “I’m- I’m just not ready. For that part. Yet. I-I’m sorry-”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about,” A small fond smile grew across Crawley’s lips, “We can go as fast as you want, angel.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evening had been perfect. Crawley let Aziraphale guide how fast they went, and they had spent a significant time saying absolutely nothing and doing absolutely nothing but letting their lips slide against each other, feeling as if they had been made to fit each other. After a while, they had slowed down, moved to the bed, and simply talked. They talked about their respective Head Offices, what they had been up to lately, and everything in between. It almost felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, to have someone listen to him so earnestly with no judgement. It made Aziraphale realize that he’d never had someone like this; in Heaven, everyone was expected to keep their mouths shut, to never give an indication that they were experiencing anything remotely human. If anything slipped, you were mocked, ridiculed, became the butt of the joke. Here, with Crawley, he felt like he could spill out the entirety of his being and the demon would handle it with such care, would never do anything to hurt him.

When Crawley’s eyes grew tired (which surprised Aziraphale, since they shouldn’t be able to feel human exhaustion), Aziraphale offered him to stay, and allowed himself to curl into the demon’s arms and watched him sleep.

He was somehow even more breath-taking in sleep, all the harsh lines on his face relaxed, giving him an almost angelic presence. Looking at him now, Aziraphale couldn’t help but wonder why he had talked himself out of this so many times. There was no regret in his heart, only pure contentment as he stared at the object of his affection.

Crawley blinked his eyes, slowly drifting back into consciousness and successfully bringing Aziraphale out of his thoughts.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.” Crawley’s voice came out sleepily, his eyes closing shut again.

“S-sorry, my dear.” Aziraphale’s cheeks blushed red with embarrassment, and he turned his head away from Crowley.

A gentle hand guided his face back to Crawley’s, “’M just teasing angel. I could get used to waking up next to you staring at me.”

“Me too.” A slight chuckled escaped from Aziraphale’s lips, and he began to lean into the Crawley’s touch.

“What time is it, anyway?” Crawley readjusted himself so his head rested in the angel’s chest.

“Oh. I suppose it’s around midafternoon-”

“_What?_” Crawley pulled back suddenly, the tiredness that had once filled his yellow eyes replaced with panic.

“Well, we _did _stay up for the majority of the night, dear, what’s got you so worked up?” Crawley immediately jumped out of bed, squinting outside and hissing when he realized how late it was.

“_Shit _why didn’t you wake me?” Crawley’s hair stuck out in several different directions, adding to the frazzled look he was wearing.

Aziraphale sat himself up in bed, before responding with, “I didn’t know I had to. Why does it matter anyway? I’m sure your tempting can wait a little while longer.”

“I was _supposed _to be at a meeting in Hell this morning.” Aziraphale felt his blood grow cold, and began to understand Crawley’s panic.

“Oh, goodness, what are you going to do?” Guilt began to eat away at Aziraphale as he realized that this was _his _fault; he had offered him to stay, and had been the one who had gotten so drunk he’d needed the demon to help put him back together again.

“It- I’ll be fine,” Crawley ran his fingers through his hair, and took a deep breath, “I’ll just say that we had a run in, and, I don’t know, fought you off spectacularly or something.”

Aziraphale nodded, wringing his hands nervously and a little guiltily in front of him.

“Hey,” Crawley made his way back towards the bed, and held Aziraphale’s face in his hands, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. I agreed to stay, didn’t I?”

“But if you get in trouble, it’ll be because of _me-_”

“No, it’ll be because I have poor time management skills. Besides, they love me down there. Wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt their favorite demon.” A sly smile formed on Crawley’s face, and despite himself, Aziraphale felt himself calm down a little.

“So you have to go now?” Aziraphale knew the answer was even before he said it, but a small part of him hoped that Crawley would say no.

“Unfortunately yes.”

Aziraphale did his best to hide his disappointment, he really did, but it showed too easily on his face and Crawley quickly took notice to it.

“I- I know it seems a little suspicious, to run out on you like this after everything I said last night but,” He moved forward, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s, “I don’t want this to end. You don’t know how _long_ I’ve waited for this.”

Aziraphale pulled back slightly, letting his fingers run down Crawley’s temples to his chin.

“I promise. I _promise_, I will come back. When it’s safe,” Crawley ran his thumb against the angel’s cheekbone, “I’ll come back to you. I’ll always come back to you.”

Aziraphale smiled, before he pulled Crawley into him to place a soft kiss on his lips. After a minute, Crawley leaned back, a playful smile splayed on his face.

“In the meantime,” Aziraphale nearly jumped when Crawley released his wings in the small room, and confusion resting itself comfortably in him when Crawley pulled a feather off his wing, hissing as it came loose under his touch, “Have this. As something to remember me by. Y’know, when you’re missing me or whatever.”

He placed the black feather into Aziraphale’s hand, who held it gingerly and knew he was going keep it safe for as long as he lived.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Rome _

Crowley kept his promise. It took a hundred years for them to be able to meet up without worrying about Heaven or Hell on their tails, but to an immortal being, a hundred years felt more like a few months. They met several times after that, Crowley always being the one that would seek Aziraphale out once they were safe. They would embrace and laugh together giddily, feeling like teenagers who were sneaking out in the middle of the night to do something their parents had prohibited them to do.

Which, as a matter of fact, was _exactly _what they were doing.

The times they were apart varied; sometimes it would be a mere ten years, and other times it would be five hundred years. No matter what, though, whenever their short visits together came to an end, Crowley would always leave Aziraphale with a gift, something on him for Aziraphale to keep. _Till next time, angel_, he’d say, and Aziraphale would wait patiently, knowing that at any moment Crowley would make it back to him.

Which was why Aziraphale was surprised to find Crowley before he had found him. He was drinking alone in a tavern, yelling at the poor bartender to get him another drink. Aziraphale started talking to him as soon as he recognized the demon, conversing casually and acting as if they didn’t know each other very well, like his heart didn’t race with excitement at the mere prospect of spending more time with Crowley. Aziraphale even used Crowley’s old name so that anyone around them wouldn’t suspect them of anything, going as far as to even ask if he was still a demon.

“What kind of stupid question is that- _still a demon, _what else am I going to be, an aardvark?” Crowley snapped, his eyes covered by some new invention that kept the sun from blinding the eyes.

Aziraphale stared at Crowley in surprise. Their whole conversation, from Aziraphale’s perspective, had been lighthearted, simple teases and words designed to make anyone around them believe they didn’t care for each other. Crowley’s tone, however, was short, angry, indicating that he was actually upset about something and not just pretending.

Aziraphale swallowed, grabbing the cup that the bartender had left for him.

“Salutaria.” Aziraphale rose his glass to Crowley, who clinked his drink against the angel’s and then turned to take a long sip. 

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to speak more, or even ask for them to sneak out so they could go somewhere more private, but was only met with Crowley’s brooding silence.

“Been in Rome long, then?” Aziraphale took a casual sip from his cup, trying not to think about how unnerving Crowley being cold to him made him feel.

Crowley shrugged, “About a week and a half.”

“A- a week and a _half_?” Aziraphale squealed, earning a surprised look from the demon.

“Were you planning on, erm, ever _visiting_ anyone someone while you were here?” Aziraphale turned his gaze forward, unable to look at Crowley. He knew that Crowley couldn’t control where Hell sent him, but whenever they _did _send him to the same city that Aziraphale just happened to be staying in the first thing he did was find Aziraphale, and they would stay at one or the other’s lodging while they spent their limited time together.

“Wha- are you- do you _really _think I wouldn’t? That I would leave without seeing y- this person?” Aziraphale slowly turned his head back to the demon, feeling a little guilty in the fact that he had doubted him.

“No. It’s just, you normally don’t wait that long.” He took another tentative sip from his drink, not really thirsty but wanting to be doing anything but staring at Crowley.

The demon was silent for a second, before he continued, voice softer than it had been before, “Let’s go, angel. Anywhere you want to go.”

Aziraphale smiled a brilliantly at him, a smile that, unbeknownst to Aziraphale, made Crowley’s heart melt and simultaneously forget whatever was making him so upset.

“Really? Well, I was thinking of trying Petronius’ new restaurant. I hear he does remarkable things to oysters.”

Crowley tilted his head thoughtfully, “I’ve never eaten an oyster.”

“Oh, well, let me tempt you-” He stopped suddenly, surprised at the words that had tumbled so effortlessly out of his mouth. Crowley’s mouth split into a devilish grin, and oh, Crowley was really rubbing off on him, wasn’t he?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The oysters were actually quite delicious. They couldn’t be anything else; Aziraphale expected them to be good, so they were. Crowley, in his typical fashion, only ate a few, sneaking a few off of Aziraphale’s plate just so he could get a rise out of him.

“So,” Aziraphale swatted Crowley’s hand away as he tried to steal a piece of bread left on his plate, “What was it that had you in such a rotten mood?”

Crowley’s face instantly soured, and he turned his gaze away from the angel, “I thought we agreed not to talk about work while we’re together.”

“So it’s about work.” That earned him a glare from the demon sat in front of him.

“Angel, I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me about you. What’s going on in Rome that’s caught your interest?” He leaned his head forward on his hand, not intending to divulge in the cause of his sour mood.

“_Crowley._” He sounded like a mother scolding her child, and he didn’t care; he wanted to know what was going on.

Crowley shook his head, sighing heavily, “I said I don’t want to talk about it, Aziraphale.”

Before he could change his mind, Aziraphale reached his hand across the table to hold Crowley’s hand. The demon gave him a startled look, turning his head to make sure no one was looking.

“_Crowley_,” Aziraphale tried again, “I know what we agreed on, but, if there’s something bothering you, something that’s upsetting you, I want to know. If we’re going to make this work, and I would very much like that indeed, you have to be honest with me. You can’t just keep all those emotions bottled in.”

Crowley eyes studied Aziraphale’s face, glasses slid down his nose just enough for Aziraphale to see the apprehension in his eyes.

“You’re not gonna like it, angel.” He said finally.

“I don’t care. I’ll get over it. Please, dear, just tell me.” Aziraphale looked at him with pleading eyes, knowing full well that it was a look that Crowley could never resist.

“Fine,” Crowley sighed, “Fine. I failed at tempting a woman to cheat on her husband.”

Aziraphale felt his eyes widen, his mouth open to scold Crowley for attempting to do such a thing, when the demon interrupted him before he had a chance to speak.

“Told you you weren’t going to like it.” Aziraphale hated the smug ‘_I told you so’_ look that had planted itself on Crowley’s face.

Aziraphale collected himself, before responding with, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at him, causing Crowley’s mouth to break into a fond smile.

“I’m surprised that you failed, considering your track record.”

“Look, I don’t even _like _tempting people into affairs, but Hell specifically requested it, and there was no way I could talk my way out of it.” He ran his thumb against Aziraphale’s knuckles, as if to say ‘_I’m not them, I’m different, please don’t run_.

“So what went wrong?” Aziraphale squeezed their intertwined hands, silently responding, _It’s alright, my dear, I’m not going anywhere_.

“She wouldn’t take the bait. I tried everything, angel. Every time I thought she was about to give in, she’d back out, and it is so _unbelievably_ frustrating to be so close just for everything to fall apart. Don’t know what I’m going to tell my bosses. Maybe lie. They can’t be mad at that, right? Demons are supposed to lie, anyways.”

Aziraphale was only half listening, because a terrible new idea had just formed in his mind.

“Wait, were- were you trying to tempt her to sleep with _you_?” Aziraphale had gone rigid, and even though it really wouldn’t be Crowley’s fault, his superiors were forcing him, and he couldn’t exactly say he couldn’t because he was already spoken for by a very angelic being, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt and jealousy.

“That’s what Hell prefers. That way they know for sure that the temptation actually occurred.” Aziraphale nodded, keeping his eyes on his cup to not give away the ridiculous hurt that was growing inside of him.

“Hey,” Crowley squeezed their hands, _look at me, love_, Aziraphale drew his eyes forward, “I would never. I was trying to get her to sleep with whatever random bloke happened to stumble on her path.”

“I wouldn’t blame you, if you did. I know it’s not you, it’s Hell, it’s your job, and you can’t tell them no despite how much you’d like. But I trust you, Crowley, I trust that you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me.”

“Even if Hell told me that was my only option, I wouldn’t. Because as much as it makes me happy that you trust me, I know that it would hurt you, none-the-less. Besides,” Crowley brought Aziraphale’s hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the knuckles, “I wouldn’t want to in the first place. There’s only you, angel. There’s always only been you.”

A breath of relief and happiness escaped Aziraphale’s lips, and it took all of his willpower not to lean forward and press a kiss onto the demon. Oh, how he really wished they were alone.

“Why don’t we get out of here, Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, almost reading his mind.

“I would love to.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The walk to the inn Crowley was staying at was a relatively short one, one that was filled with intentional hand brushing and talking about whatever came to mind. Whenever a passerby got close enough to hear them speak, they switched to polite conversation and put enough space between them that made it seem more like they were together in the same space at the same time, not intentionally walking together. Aziraphale wanted more than anything to grasp Crowley’s hand while they made their way to their temporary home, but the fear of getting caught caused him to hold his hand at bay.

The moment they walked into Crowley’s room and the door was locked, Aziraphale threw himself at the demon, kissing him with all the desperation a dehydrated man getting his first sip of water would. Crowley kissed him back immediately, placing his hands on his back to push him closer to him.

“I’ve missed you, Crowley.” Aziraphale murmured against his lips.

“I’ve missed you too, angel. More than you could know.” He pulled Aziraphale back, and for a small eternity, the only thing that existed between them was the press of their lips together.

“I- I’m ready now, my dear.” Aziraphale said breathlessly after a few minutes.

Crowley pulled back, staring at Aziraphale uncertainly.

“Are- are you sure? I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to do.” Hesitant amber eyes met Aziraphale’s confidant blue ones.

“Trust me. I’m sure.”

Crowley studied Aziraphale’s face carefully, looking for a shred of doubt or a good reason to say no. When he couldn’t find it, a radiant smile lit his face, a rare one that didn’t try to be coy or sly, one that just expressed him for how he felt; stupidly, unbelievably, happy.

The smile didn’t fade as he guided Aziraphale towards the bed.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aziraphale fell asleep after. While falling asleep wasn’t unheard of for the angel, it certainly was a surprise to him as he found his way back to consciousness in the dark room. It was still very early in the morning, the only window in the room revealing that the sun hadn’t come up yet. Aziraphale had his head on Crowley’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around the demon’s chest with his hand curled around Crowley’s neck. Aziraphale sighed in contentment against Crowley’s chest, certain that this was by far his favorite place in the world.

“’Ziraphale?” Crowley said sleepily in the dark.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” He said it so calmly, like he was simply stating that the sky was blue or that Heaven and Hell were places that existed.

Aziraphale tensed, before he pulled himself back to properly face the demon.

“What?”

“I said,” A goofy smile made its way across Crowley’s face, “I love you.”

Aziraphale felt panic begin to pulse through his veins, and though he tried to hide it, he had a feeling that the worry was written all over his face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Crowley placed a hand on Aziraphale’s check, “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. We’ve got an eternity for you to catch up to me. I just wanted you to know.”

Relief quickly replaced Aziraphale’s fear, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty; here was Crowley, usually so reserved about how he was really feeling, exposing himself to Aziraphale in a way that he couldn’t reciprocate. He was offering a piece of himself to Aziraphale, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t give more of himself in return.

“I do care for you, you know. An awful lot.” Aziraphale said, trying to offer something that wasn’t even close to what Crowley had offered him.

“I know, love.” Aziraphale’s heart did a little flip at the nickname, his checks flushing red.

“More than anything, I think.”

“_Aziraphale_,” Crowley leaned his head forward so that there was barely any space between their faces, “It’s _alright_\- you don’t have to justify yourself to me. I know how much you care for me.”

A nervous smile grew on Aziraphale’s lips, “Just so we’re on the same page.”

Crowley laughed, before cutting it short when he gave Aziraphale the sweetest, slowest kiss he’d ever had.

“Are you sure you have to go now?” Aziraphale asked from his chair. They’d had a month together before Hell gave Crowley his next assignment, and Aziraphale hated watching Crowley get dressed and pack his few things.

“You know I have to, angel.” Crowley was wandering around the small space of the room they had stayed in, checking to see if he’d forgotten anything.

“I don’t want you to go, though.” Aziraphale said with a frown.

“Yes, I’m sure if I tell Hell that my angel doesn’t want me to work, they’d _surely _let me off the hook.” Crowley laughed, a sound that was delightful to Aziraphale’s ears.

“You know, I quite like it when you call me that.”

“Call you what?” Crowley turned towards him, making his way over to where Aziraphale sat.

“When you call me your angel.” His checks went red with a flush of embarrassment, but Aziraphale didn’t regret it because the next thing he saw was Crowley placing his hands on the sides of his chair, leaning in dangerously close to his face for someone about to leave.

“That’s because you’re _mine_.” He closed the distance between them with a kiss, Aziraphale giggling against his lips. 

Crowley pulled back, giving him such a pure and intense look of adoration Aziraphale felt he might die under the intensity of it.

“It won’t be too long, love, maybe just a few years. If that. Things are kind of running slow in the office.”

Aziraphale nodded, trying to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape without his permission.

“Hurry home soon, alright?”

“Course, angel.”

Crowley backed away, sighing as he realized it was time.

Aziraphale looked back to their bed, noticing a very dark pair of sunglasses that definitely did _not _belong to him.

“Wait!” Aziraphale snatched the glasses, walking over to Crowley and pressing them into his hand, “You almost forgot these.”

“Oh.” He paused, staring at them before he pushed them back into Aziraphale’s hand.

“Keep them.”

“What? But what about you-”

“It’s fine angel. You know I can just miracle myself another pair if I want to. Just keep them. For me. Until we meet again.” Crowley closed Aziraphale’s fingers around the pair, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before he walked out the door.

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_France _

“Where the crepes really worth it, angel?” Crowley asked as he bit into a strawberry.

“Oh, I most certainly think so. You would _know _if you actually ordered some and not just stole bites off of my plate.” Aziraphale gave him a pointed look, which only resulted in a light chuckle from Crowley.

“But where’s the fun in that?” Crowley smiled mischievously.

Aziraphale shook his head, before taking another bite of the crepes he had nearly lost his head over.

“So what exactly were you doing in France, if not for that dreadful revolution?”

“I told you. Commendation.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Yes, but commendation for _what_?” Aziraphale knew he probably wasn’t going to like the answer, but the curiosity was eating him up anyway.

“Hell if I know,” Crowley shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t even have to lie anymore. They just assume anything bad happens to humanity it’s me who’s responsible.”

“Ah,” Aziraphale swallowed his last bite of food, immediately wishing he had more, “How did you even know I was in trouble?”

“Well, it just so happened that I was on my way to see you. To surprise you.”

“But, the last time we spoke, you said we wouldn’t be able to see each other for another two hundred years-”

“That’s what I thought,” Crowley straightened in his chair, drawing in a deep breath, “But I ended up finishing with my assignments early. Thought popping in without letting you know would be a nice surprise.”

“Oh, Crowley,” An affectionate smile crossed Aziraphale’s face, “How romantic.”

Crowley groaned, before saying, “Don’t say things like that, sweetheart, or I’ll get up and leave right now.”

“Alright, alright.” Aziraphale said, taking it back but keeping the smile on his lips.

“Of course _you _had to go ruin it by getting yourself lined up for execution. Was on my way to England when I heard some people talk about how a very nice-looking Englishman was about to be executed, and well, I assumed it was safe to bet it was you. Tell me, how many times have I saved you from discorporation now? Ten times since the world has come into existence?”

“Oh, hush now, you wily old serpent. I’m sure it’s not that many.”

“You’re right. I think twenty’s closer to the truth.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, “I suppose I just might have to show you my appreciation.”

“Is that so?” Crowley leaned his head forward on his hands, his eyebrows raising.

“But in order to do that, we’ll have to get out of here.”

With a wave of Crowley’s hand, the payment for their food lied neatly on the table.

“I’m ready whenever you are, angel.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sweetheart, now I _really _have to go.” Crowley muttered against Aziraphale’s lips.

“No. I simply won’t allow it.” Aziraphale pressed their lips together again, hoping to dissuade the demon from leaving. They had gotten two long years together, before Hell remembered that they had an agent on Earth who had a surprisingly lack of temptations on his plate.

“_Aziraphale._”

The angel finally pulled back slowly, looking into Crowley’s covered yellow eyes sadly.

“What if I don’t let you leave? Hm? What if I kidnap you, hold you hostage here? I mean, my side would hardly put up a fuss if it looks like you’re being held against your will.” 

“I think my side would react negatively to their only field agent being imprisoned, no matter how much he wanted to stay.” Crowley placed his hand on his cheek, the angel lifting his own to place it on top of Crowley’s.

“I’ll miss you.” Aziraphale complained.

“I’ll miss you more.”

Aziraphale sighed, biting his lip. He hated saying goodbye; he knew it was stupid, because obviously they would see each other again. It wasn’t goodbye forever, just for a little while. He just had to be strong, and within no time he would have Crowley in his arms again. Every goodbye they spoke to each other, however, felt harder and harder to say, making Aziraphale yearn for a future where they never had to leave the other again.

“What if I go with you? We could arrive to wherever you’re going at separate times, we could be _careful-_”

“Angel, you know why we can’t do that. You’re setting up your bookshop here, and besides, it’s too dangerous. We’ve been over this.”

“I know, it’s just,” Aziraphale sighed unhappily, “Just… don’t take as long as last time to come back.”

“It was only fifty years last time, Aziraphale. That’s nothing for us.” Crowley stated matter-of-factly. Aziraphale turned his head, the miserable feeling caused by Crowley’s absence growing stronger in his chest.

“I know how you feel, though,” Crowley lifted Aziraphale’s chin so he would look up at him, “The longer we do this, the stronger, well, whatever we are gets, it gets harder to go any time without seeing you. Even if it is only fifty years.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley in for one last, bittersweet kiss, one that reminded them of all the embraces they’d had and all the ones that would be missing until they met again.

“One day,” Crowley said after they parted, his hands moving down to Aziraphale’s arms, “We’ll never have to be separated. We’ll move in together, and I’ll make you however many damn crepes you want.”

“That would be nice.” Aziraphale laughed longingly.

“I love you, angel.”

“Be safe, will you?” It was the closest thing to ‘I love you’ Aziraphale could say, without actually feeling it.

He knew that humans fell in love considerably quickly, that it seemed that they only needed to be around someone for a small amount of time before they gave their hearts away. It filled Aziraphale with frustration and jealousy that he couldn’t do the same, that he wasn’t there yet. It wasn’t that he didn’t have strong feelings for Crowley; if it came down to saving him or a first edition novel, he would choose Crowley every time. The problem was that for whatever reason, his stubborn heart wanted to take it’s time on the fall, play whatever this was as long as it could before it made up its mind.

“Same goes for you. I don’t want to have to be pulled out of a meeting just to save you from whatever predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.” Aziraphale swatted his arm playfully, almost being brought to tears at the thought of how much he was going to miss hitting that arm.

“You should go now. Before I lock you up and never let you go.” He smiled sadly, only half joking.

Crowley nodded, turned to leave before he froze, exclaiming an ‘oh’ before he turned back to face Aziraphale.

“Almost forgot,” He reached into his jacket pocket, before pulling out a stack of neatly folded papers, “These are for you.”

“Me?” Aziraphale took them into his hands, eying them curiously, “What are they?”

“Letters I wrote. To you, the last time we were apart.” Crowley said solemnly.

“Are you telling me you wrote fifty years’ worth of letters?” Aziraphale’s mouth hung open slightly. The stack of papers in his hands certainly didn’t _feel _like fifty years’ worth.

Crowley shrugged, “Just about. I didn’t give you all of them, some of them were too sappy to even be worthy of seeing the light of day.”

Aziraphale swallowed down the lump in his throat, the urge to cry nearly overwhelming. How could Heaven throw out such a magnificent being such as Crowley? He didn’t have an evil bone in his body. Sure, he liked to act tough and act like he didn’t care, but deep down, he was the most sentimental person Aziraphale had ever known. A rush of tenderness washed through Aziraphale as he realized how incredibly lucky to be able to call Crowley his, that Crowley _wanted _him. 

“Thank you, Crowley.” He brought the letters close to his chest, holding onto them like they were his lifeline.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_1941 _

Aziraphale was in love with Crowley.

He realized that he had been in love with him for a while now, just blissfully unaware until Crowley had thrown a bomb on their heads. No, he was unaware until Crowley saved his books, an action that had been done purely because he knew Aziraphale loved his books, and would be heartbroken to find them destroyed. It was an unnecessary thing to do, and yet he did it without hesitation, simply because he loved the angel.

Aziraphale had no idea what to do with this information.

Sure, he knew that the typical response would be to tell Crowley, but sitting in his car, deep in thought on the way home, didn’t feel like it was the right moment to tell him. It was a big statement, and hearing for the first time needed to be done in a thoughtful and meaningful way. He just needed to find the right time.

“You alright, angel? You’ve been quiet for the whole trip. My driving’s not _that _terrible, is it?” Crowley flashed a smile, looking over at Aziraphale longer than what would be perceived as safe.

“Watch the road! And yes, I’m fine, just thinking.” Aziraphale swallowed, hoping not to make it obvious that he was keeping something from the demon. 

“You’re always thinking, Aziraphale. You seem to be thinking a little more tonight.” Crowley shifted his gaze back to the road, much to Aziraphale’s relief.

“Well, it’s not every day that a church falls down on your head.”

“It’s also not every day that you get double crossed by Nazi’s- really, sweetheart, you should have seen that coming- and your boyfriend has to come to your rescue.” Aziraphale’s heart fluttered at the sound of ‘boyfriend’. For so many years they struggled to find a term that fit them accurately, and with the way human language and terms changed frequently, it was hard to find something that didn’t change meaning in the next century. Even though ‘boyfriend’ was the closest thing that even remotely described them, it still didn’t feel right, like eating food that wasn’t seasoned enough; it was good, but not as good as it could be.

“What were you doing in England again? I thought you were out of the country. Trying to surprise me again?” Aziraphale added hopefully, wanted more than anything to spend more time with Crowley.

“Well, I was. Still am, technically. They had me posted in Germany. Which reminds me, as soon as I drop you off, I need to get back, before they notice that I’m not where I need to be.” Crowley’s voice was calm, but his hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel gave away his anxiety.

“Oh, goodness Crowley,” Aziraphale reached over and grabbed one of his hands on the steering wheel, which Crowley let him without any struggle, “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand, oh I’m such a fool-”

“Angel- it’s okay,” Crowley squeezed their intertwined hands, “You were in danger. I came to save you. It’s as simple as that. No need to beat yourself over the head for it.”

“I just hate the idea of you getting in trouble because of me...” Aziraphale bit his lip, anxiety and guilt eating away at his insides.

“No, it wouldn’t be because of you, sweetheart, it would be because of me- _I _chose to come. I knew the risk I was taking when I left. Besides, this is, what, the twentieth time I’ve rescued you? Racking up quiet the tally there.” A teasing smile worked its way on the edges of his mouth, his hand relaxing ever so slightly on the wheel as they resumed their light banter.

“Well, it’s hardly my fault that tricky situations just happen to find me.” Aziraphale said defensively.

“_Tricky situations_\- angel, you make it out to be like someone’s mistaken you for their great grandma or something. You, love, somehow manage to get yourself in situations that almost end in you getting discorporated. It might even look like you’re doing it intentionally.”

“And why on Earth would I do that?” Aziraphale huffed, feeling the car slow down as Crowley parked the car in front of the bookshop.

“Dunno, perhaps you were trying to get the attention of a certain demon.” Crowley shrugged, the teasing nature in his expression fading to unbearably fond.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to retort, when the radio suddenly came to life and a very unfamiliar voice crackled through.

“Crowley- why have you left Germany? It seems to us that you still have unfinished business there.” Crowley’s face went pale, and he quickly put his fingers to his lips to indicate that no matter what happened, Aziraphale was forbidden from speaking.

“Hastur! Pleasure to speak with you! How’s Hell going?” Crowley’s grip on Aziraphale’s hand tightened, as if he were scared that if they let go Aziraphale would be taken from him.

“Stop stalling, Crowley. Why have you left? You’re not deserting us, are you? Because we can make life _very_ miserable for a demon who thinks he can betray Hell.” Aziraphale felt his blood freeze in his veins, his heart pounding as he realized just how bad Crowley’s situation was. And it was all because of _him_.

“What? No. No, of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it. Something, erm, came up.” Aziraphale could practically see how fast his mind was going, trying to find an excuse that would protect the both of them.

“Which was...?”

“Well,” Crowley paused, looking at Aziraphale, before his face lit up in the unmistakable look of an idea, “I heard news that my Adversary, the angel Aziraphale, was going to be in a certain church a few minutes ago, and, erm, decided I couldn’t possibly pass up an opportunity to try and get rid of him.”

Aziraphale gave him a look that spoke, _what are you doing?!, _to which Crowley responded by giving him one that said _Trust me. _

“And were you successful?” It was a little disturbing to Aziraphale just how excited Hastur sounded at his potential demise.

“I think so. I dropped a bomb on him. Hopefully that leaves him out of our hair for a while,” Crowley took off his sunglasses, his eyes wide in the way when he was about to push his luck, “In fact, I think it might be good for me to stay here, while Aziraphale’s out of the picture. He’s stationed here, right? So, while he’s gone, it might be good to cause as much mayhem in the city while I can.”

Aziraphale straightened in his seat, hoping desperately that they would say yes, that he’d get a few more days with the demon sat next to him.

“Huh. I guess that’s not a terrible idea. Alright, Crowley. As long as Aziraphale remains discorporated, you’re free to remain in Soho. But as soon as he comes back, you are to finish your duties in Germany- understood?”

“Yes, of course. Alright, well, talk to you later Hastur.” Crowley quickly turned the radio off, and for a few seconds, the two beings sat in the car in stunned silence.

Aziraphale was the first to come to, an ecstatic smile on his face as he was about to say something when Crowley shook his head, opening his door and indicating for Aziraphale to follow.

“Sorry, don’t know if they’re still listening or not.” Crowley said as soon as the doors shut.

“Oh, Crowley, this is wonderful! You could stay here for as long as you’d like-”

“Well, no, because as soon as Hell gets wind that you’re here they’ll send me packing,” Crowley gave him a pointed look, one that said, _don’t get your hopes up_, “And also, I’ve got to do my demonic tempting here now, or else they’ll be very suspicious as to why I was so intent on staying here.”

“Of course! That’s fine. I don’t care, as long as you’re here.” Aziraphale made his way to Crowley, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly.

“I think that, after tonight, I need a drink. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds wonderful, my dearest.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aziraphale.” A voice whispered in the darkness, a hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake.

“Hmm?” Aziraphale was surprised to find that he was groggy. On the rare occasions that he did sleep, as soon as he was brought back into consciousness he was wide awake, no trace amount of sleep carrying back with him to the waking world. Now, he found himself wanting to fall back asleep, a fact that made him worry that he was developing a habit. 

“I’m going to head out for a bit, but I’ll be back soon.” He felt Crowley’s hand leave his shoulder, and in his sleep-driven haze his own hand shot after it, preventing the demon from leaving.

“Wait, where are you going?” He slurred, eyes still closed.

“To the store- you have a surprisingly low amount of groceries for someone who loves food a whole lot.”

“But why are you going now? It’s early…”

“Well, I know how much you love those pastries when you wake up, so I wanted to grab some for you to have in the morning. Well, I guess later today, since it’s technically morning now.” Aziraphale felt Crowley begin to loosen his hand from his, causing the angel to only grip on tighter.

“Why aren’t you asleep? You’re usually the one that sleeps.” Aziraphale still had his eyes closed, his tired body trying to urge him to fall back asleep.

“Can’t sleep tonight. Decided to do this now while I had it on my mind.”

“The shops won’t even be open at this hour, just come back to bed.” He started pulling on Crowley’s arm hoping that would be enough to get him to lie back down.

“Oh, they will be for me, don’t you worry,” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And just like that, everything in the room froze. Crowley tensed above Aziraphale, and the angel suddenly found himself significantly less tired than he had been a second ago. His eyes flashed open, only to be met by Crowley’s questioning ones. Aziraphale really was an _idiot_; How could he let those three words slip out so easily?

“Y- you love me?” Crowley sounded incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe the possibility could be true.

“Oh, dear, well, _yes, _but, this wasn’t how I wanted to tell you- I was going to do something romantic and lovely and now I’ve gone and spoiled it-”

“You love me.” Crowley’s face lit up, almost looking like he’d just won the lottery.

“Very much so, yes,” Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s jaw, “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“Well, it _has _been a while since I first confessed to you.” Crowley leaned into the hand on his face, smiling.

“What do you mean it’s been a while? You told me we had eternity for me to catch up with you!” Aziraphale said exasperatedly.

“Yes, but I didn’t think that it would take you _millennia _to fall in love with me! I started to doubt, after a while.” Crowley’s eyes left his, looking away.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale pushed Crowley’s head back to him, “I love you.”

Crowley leaned down again, planting a kiss on Aziraphale’s lips. His hands found Aziraphale’s face, and before he knew it, the angel was pulling him back on the bed on top of him, the both of them laughing.

“You really love me.” Crowley pulled back, staring at him disbelievingly.

“More than anything, my darling.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Crowley left to head back to Germany, their goodbye was a little less sorrowful. Crowley assured him that it would take him less than a year to finish the assignments he had left, and with the invention of telephones, Aziraphale could talk to Crowley on most nights. Though it was no replacement for the demon actually being with him, it was certainly better than going years without hearing his voice.

Still, as Aziraphale walked back into the bookshop, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of temporary loss wash over him, wishing more than anything that Crowley was still there. He shook his head, thinking himself silly. _He’ll be back_, he thought to himself as he walked into the backroom where they’d have drinks, _it’s just for a little while. He’s not gone forever, pull yourself together_.

Before he could fall apart, a dark object sitting on his desk that he was sure hadn’t been there before caught his eye, drawing him in. Once Aziraphale reached his desk, he recognized the object as Crowley’s watch, the one that he had been wearing since the night he’d rescued Aziraphale in the church. He picked it up carefully, eyes pricking up when he saw the note attached to it:

“I’ll be counting the minutes until I see you again. I love you more than anything, angel. Yours forever, Crowley”. 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_1961 _

“I’m telling you, angel, any day now they’re going to give me the green light to move here permanently.” Crowley said as he poured the both of them a glass of wine.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, my love, you’ve been saying that since the twenties.” Crowley handed Aziraphale his glass as he sat down next to him on the well-worn sofa in his backroom.

“I mean it this time! I’ve been talking to Beelzebub, and I think I’m really getting to them.” The demon took a sip from his glass, glaring at it until it tasted better.

“What could you have possibly been telling Beelzebub that would make them reconsider? That you’d rather spend your time fraternizing with me than performing temptations?” Aziraphale propped his head against his arm, leaning it against the back of the couch.

“_No_, I simply reminded them that my Nemesis- that’s you, by the way- live in London, so it might be easier to counter your blessings if we lived in the same city.”

“Well, I still won’t believe it until I see it.” Aziraphale took a sip from his wine, a comfortable silence falling between the two.

“That’s new.” Crowley pointed at the record player tucked neatly next to the desk.

“Ah, yes. Just got it a few months ago! I still have no idea how to use it, though.” Crowley stood from his seat, stopping in front of the device and looking through the records that sat next to it.

“You really do have _terrible _taste in music, sweetheart.” He shook his head.

“I do _not_!” Aziraphale huffed, straightening himself on the couch.

“Keep telling yourself that.” The demon finally found a record that he deemed somewhat worthy of listening too, and carefully placed it on the record player. A slow song came through the speaker, and a mischievous grin grew on Crowley’s face.

“Dance with me, angel.” He said as he made his way in front of where Aziraphale was sitting.

“I certainly think _not_\- angel’s do not _dance-_” Aziraphale’s sentence was cut off, however, because before he knew it Crowley had grabbed both of his hands and was pulling him up to his feet.

“C’_mon_, Aziraphale, do it for me?” Bare amber eyes begged Aziraphale, to which the angel sighed, knowing he’d comply.

“Oh, you old serpent.” Aziraphale said fondly, placing one of his hands on Crowley’s shoulder and the other in his hand. Aziraphale rested his head into Crowley’s cheek, leaving no space between them as they swayed to the music.

“What do you think about marriage?” Aziraphale asked randomly after a few minutes.

Crowley shrugged, “I think that it can be a good thing, if people do it because they’re in love and want to spend their rest of their lives together. Or else it becomes a thing that Hell devised.”

“So you wouldn’t be opposed to it, then?” Even though he couldn’t see the angel’s face, he could feel his breath quicken, indicating that he might be thinking of it more seriously than idle curiosity.

“Are you proposing to me, Aziraphale?” Crowley stopped moving, and pulled back so he could see Aziraphale’s face.

“No- I mean, it’s more like discussing the possibility. You know, like in that future where we live together and you make me breakfast.” An airy laugh escaped his lips, but Crowley knew his angel well enough to know when he was nervous.

“Angel, I’d love to marry you. If that’s what you wanted, I’d marry you right now,” Aziraphale brightened considerably, “But even if we didn’t have our sides watching us, it’s not even legal here.”

“Oh, you’re right. Of course. It was a stupid idea, let’s just ignore that I ever said anything and pretend this never happened.” A disappointed look fell across Aziraphale, breaking Crowley’s heart in a thousand ways.

“No! No, Aziraphale, it isn’t stupid,” He sighed, cupping his hands on Aziraphale’s face, “One day, we’ll get married. We’ll do it in Saint James park or wherever the hell you want. I promise.”

Aziraphale nodded, and placed his head back on Crowley’s cheek, indicating that he was done with this conversation and just wanted to go back to dancing. Crowley complied, and though his body was with Aziraphale, slow dancing to a truly awful song, his mind was somewhere else completely.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was an accident, really.

Crowley had been walking down the street, on his way to get Aziraphale those pastries he loved when he paused outside a jewelry store. He saw the gold band on display, shining so magnificently in the light, and Crowley couldn’t help but think just how damn _good _it would look on Aziraphale.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Crowley was nervous. Terribly nervous. He knew he shouldn’t be; Aziraphale had been the one who had brought it up first, had been the one who was disappointed that they couldn’t, so _obviously _he should say yes. Despite the fact that he _knew _this, he couldn’t help but worry, a million ‘what if’s’ running rampant in his mind; What if he doesn’t like the ring? What if he doesn’t like the way he does it and realizes he doesn’t really want to be with him? It was ridiculous.

Crowley had thought about doing it over dinner, but shot that idea down as he realized that Aziraphale would probably make a big scene and catch the attention of everyone in the room. No, he decided that it would be best to do it at home, in the safety of the backroom, where he could say whatever he wanted without worrying who was listening.

“Crowley, did you hear what I just said?” Aziraphale’s voice on the couch next to him brought him back to reality.

“Sorry angel, no, what where you saying?” He took a big gulp out of his wine, hoping to calm down some of his nerves.

“Well, I was talking about this rare book I was hoping to get my hands on. It’s very expensive, but you know, money has never been a problem for us-”

“Were you serious about getting married?” Crowley interrupted. He hadn’t meant to, but his nerves were eating him up so badly he just wanted to get it over with.

Aziraphale blinked, trying to process the sudden change in topic. When he registered what Crowley had said, a sad look flashed upon his face.

“Yes.”

Crowley nodded. That’s all that he needed to hear.

He slid down from his seat, ignoring Aziraphale’s protests and ‘_what on Earth are you doing, my dearest?’_. As soon as he got down on one knee, the angel fell silent, eyes widening as he realized what was about to happen.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley took one of the angel’s hands into both of his, “I know we can’t do this officially, but I’ve been thinking, that I want to be married to you, now. We don’t need a priest or a stupid piece of paper to tell us what we are. We’re making this promise between us right now, and if you’ll promise yourself to me, I’ll promise myself to you for the rest of eternity.”

Tears began to fall out of Aziraphale’s eyes, his breath catching when he saw Crowley take out the small velvet box that had felt like a million pounds in his pocket all day that suddenly felt weightless.

“Marry me, angel.” He opened the box, revealing the gold ring that no matter what would fit Aziraphale perfectly.

“Oh, Crowley, of _course _I’ll marry you. I’d like nothing better than _to_ marry you.”

Crowley shot forward, kissing Aziraphale in a desperate but loving way. When Aziraphale pulled back, he took out the ring from the box, a curious expression flitting across his face as he noticed the inscription on the inside of the ring.

“A.J.C.,” Aziraphale ran his finger across the letters, “You’re initials.”

“Well, I wanted you to have a piece of me with you no matter where you were, and I couldn’t make it too obvious so I thought that might work.”

“I love it.” Aziraphale smiled at him so brightly he thought he might go blind from the intensity of it.

He gave another soft kiss to Crowley, before pulling back with a small frown on his face.

“But what about you? If we’re getting married, you’ll need one too.”

“Oh, almost forgot,” He grabbed the other ring that matched Aziraphale’s out of his pocket, holding it out for Aziraphale to see, “Got your initials on it too. I know you’ve only got the first name, so I went with A.Z.F.”

“Oh, dearest…”Aziraphale lifted his hand, stroking Crowley’s face from his temple to his cheek, pure unadulterated adoration spilling out from his eyes.

“So, erm, you want me to put it on, or...?” Crowley had to say something because if Aziraphale kept looking at him like that, there was no way he was going to be able to function properly.

“Well, if this _is _our wedding, we’re supposed to exchange our vows before we put the rings on, no?”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Crowley had been so preoccupied with _how _to propose he hadn’t given much thought to what would come afterwards. He sat himself next to Aziraphale, who grabbed both of his hands after setting the rings on the coffee table in front of them. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale was staring at him like he hung the stars, which he, in fact, had, “When I first met you on that wall in Eden, I was a little nervous, if I must tell the truth. Heaven had told me so many things about demons, how they were vile creatures that would take any opportunity to harm an angel, and when you first spoke to me I was afraid of what you would do. But you were nothing like Heaven described you as- you actually tried to comfort me, tried to make me laugh, when no one else had ever even taken the time to in all my time Upstairs. Over the years, you have taken such good care of me, never thinking of yourself and always putting me first. You waited so patiently for me to fall in love with you, never giving up on me. You’re always everything I need and more, and I hope that, in this marriage, I can return the favor. I promise to always love you, to take care of you, on your good and bad days. I promise you an eternity of pointless bickering and lunches and wine in the backroom. I love you so much, Crowley.”

Crowley was crying. He didn’t realize it until Aziraphale had finished, had been so enraptured by Aziraphale’s words that it he didn’t register what his face had been doing without his guidance until the angel stopped. He quickly lifted a hand to wipe away his tears, pretending that he was moving his hair out of his face and if Aziraphale took notice (he did), he didn’t mention anything.

“I guess it’s my turn.” Crowley said shakily, griping Aziraphale’s hands tighter.

“Aziraphale. Angel, I have loved you for as long as I’ve known you. When I saw you in Eden, you took my breath away. Even with the entirety of the Garden in front of me, I had never seen anything more breathtaking than you. I just knew I had to talk to you, to get to know you, and when I found that you were actually kind, that you gave away that stupid bloody sword just because you wanted to make sure that Adam and Eve were okay, I gave my heart to you right then. I am so lucky to have you; I can’t believe you actually wanted _me, _that you love me and want to spend the rest of time with _me_. You’re my everything, Aziraphale, my whole life. It’s stupid and cheesy to say, I know believe me I know, but without you, I’m nothing. I promise to always protect you, even when you get yourself locked up in the Bastille because you wanted something to _nibble_, and to always fight for you, for us. No matter what.” He brought Aziraphale’s hands up to his mouth, planting a kiss on his knuckles before he could say anymore sappy things that he’d regret later.

Aziraphale was beaming so brightly that Crowley seriously feared for a second that he might discorporate, until he reached down and grabbed Crowley’s ring from the table. He was about to slide it on the demon’s ring finger when he frowned. 

“Wait, won’t our sides be suspicious why we suddenly have rings on our wedding fingers?” Crowley hadn’t thought about that.

“Doubt they’d even notice. They never come up to the surface anyway, let alone know what human customs are.” The thought worried Crowley, though. What if a well-informed demon saw the ring on his finger? That was sure to bring up questions that he wouldn’t be able to answer.

“I think Heaven might notice, since marriage and love are supposed to go hand and hand, so they ought to know _something _about it.” The frown deepened on his face, disappointment beginning to leak into the vibrant happiness that had been there before.

“We’ll put it on our right hand, then,” As he spoke, he slid Aziraphale’s ring on his right hand, “That way, no one but us knows what it means. And when we’re ready, and finally able to be who we are, we can switch it back to the left.”

“I quite like that idea.” Aziraphale’s expression lit up once more, and with that he carefully put Crowley’s ring on his right hand, running his fingers on the band again.

“We’re married,” Aziraphale said disbelievingly, as if he expected to wake up from a dream, “You’re my husband.”

“And you’re my husband.” A stupidly fond smile that gave away too much of Crowley spread on his face, but at the moment he was too damn happy to care.

Aziraphale looked up, his expression mirroring his new husband’s as he leaned forward kissed Crowley for what felt like the thousandth time that night, feeling oh so similar to their first kiss; full of hope and possibility for the future.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

_1967 _

Crowley stood outside of the Bentley for a few seconds, watching the back of that bloke Shadwell disappear into the night. His stomach twisted in knots, nerves beginning to eat him alive. The heist was tomorrow, and he had to make sure that everything was went perfectly. He didn’t think he’d have another chance like this to snatch the Holy Water he sought so desperately again for a while. One wrong slip up and he’d have to wait for another opportunity to present itself, leaving him and Aziraphale unprotected.

He sighed as he sat down in the driver’s seat of his car, had barely enough time to shut the door when he realized there was a very familiar angelic presence sitting next to him.

“So this is what you’ve been up to when you sneak out, thinking I was asleep or too enraptured in a book to notice that you’re gone.” Aziraphale stared in front of him, voice quiet and slightly trembling.

Crowley felt his heart sink to the floor. His husband wasn’t supposed to find out, _especially _not like this.

“Aziraphale…” Crowley stared after him, not able to find any words to say.

“Did you really think you could hide this from me? That I wouldn’t find out?” Aziraphale snapped his head to his, his blue eyes swimming with hurt and betrayal. The mere sight caused a deep ache in Crowley’s heart, wanting more than anything to comfort him but knowing that Aziraphale most likely didn’t want his comfort right now.

That made it hurt more.

“I, well, I was hoping…” He cursed himself internally for being so inarticulate. He was only making this worse, he just needed to say _more _than three or four words, but looking at Aziraphale’s face made the words die on his tongue, unsure at what _could _be said to make this better.

“Crowley, it’s too dangerous. Holy water won’t just kill your body it will _destroy_ you completely.” Aziraphale’s lip started trembling, and Crowley feared he might start crying.

Crowley turned his head to the windshield, not able to stand that intense angelic gaze Aziraphale was giving him.

“You told me what you think. A hundred and five years ago. You said no, Aziraphale, what else was I supposed to do?” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he couldn’t help but feel a little angry; Crowley wouldn’t be in this situation if Aziraphale had just given him the Holy Water all those years ago.

“_Not _go risking your life like this! Lie to my face and go behind my back when I explicitly told you no,” Aziraphale sighed exasperatedly, “I still haven’t changed my mind, but, I can’t let you go through with this.”

“You may be my husband, Aziraphale, but that doesn’t mean you can control me.” There was no venom in his voice, only exhaustion and a desperate wish not to fight, to be doing anything but this right now.

“I know that, Crowley,” Aziraphale’s voice came out sharp like the blade of a knife, causing Crowley to flinch, “Which is why I have this, so you can call off the robbery.”

Crowley looked back to the angel, surprised to see him handing him a thermos with a tartan pattern on it. He took it gingerly, feeling the slight jolt of holy power that radiated from it as soon as it came in contact with his skin.

“Don’t go unscrewing the cap.” All the anger and fight were out of Aziraphale’s voice, leaving him sounding drained.

Crowley stared at the thermos, not quiet believing that he was really holding it. He couldn’t believe that after the whole fuss Aziraphale had put up about him having it, after everything that he had said, that he would just hand it over as if it were nothing. Well, not nothing. He could sense just how much this was taking out of Aziraphale, how much he hated giving him that thermos.

“Should I say thank you?” Crowley asked, not sure what to say after this.

“Better not.” Aziraphale was tense next to him, and he hated that. He could practically feel how closed-off the angel was, could feel the walls that Aziraphale was building up to hold back from him. They had fought before, it was inevitable when two people were close, but this, this felt different from all those times.

This felt like the end.

“Why don’t I take us home? We could stop to get dinner on the way there, anywhere you want.” 

“No, I think I’d much rather go to the bookshop, alone.” Crowley felt like his chest was cracking open, like all of his organs and tissues were spilling out of him and being crushed in front of him.

“Angel…”

To his horror, Aziraphale reached down to the door handle, pushing the door ever so slightly to get out. He was trying to leave before he could fix this, leave before he could make it better.

“Wait, Aziraphale, _please_,” He reached out and grasped Aziraphale’s wrist, holding onto it like a drowning man holds onto a raft, “Don’t go.”

Aziraphale froze, and for a terrifying second he thought that the angel was going to rip his hand off of him and leave him there, hating himself for what he’d done. Thankfully, Aziraphale shut the door, sighing and staring at his hands on his lap.

“What do you want me to say, Crowley?” He sounded so tired, so deflated, like the life had been drained from him. 

“I want- I want us to _talk _about this- wasn’t it you that said if we wanted this to work we had to be open about how we felt?”

“We also said we needed to be honest with each other.” The bite was back in Aziraphale’s voice, albeit weaker than it had been before.

“I’m sorry, Aziraphale. I really am. But if I had told you what I had planned, you would have tried to stop me. You _did _stop me, actually.” His grip on Aziraphale’s arm had weakened, but he didn’t dare move it to hold his hand; he was too afraid that if he made any sudden movements the angel would freak out and get out of the car.

“Yes, because of this, this _insane _need of yours to get your hands on Holy Water would have gotten you killed!” The anger was rising in Aziraphale, who lifted his gaze from his hands to stare him down.

“Why are you _so _against me having Holy Water, Aziraphale? Yes, it could kill me, but it could _protect _me, too! Could protect _us_! Shouldn’t that be more important?” Crowley pleaded, desperately wanting Aziraphale to see his point so they could move past this so they could be back to where they had been before.

“What, by _protecting _you, you mean having a suicide pill? Having a way out so if they come for us you can take the easy way out? And where would that leave me, Crowley? A widow? All alone to face eternity knowing that it was _me _who was responsible for your death?” Aziraphale let his tears flow freely on his face, and Crowley could resist it anymore; he lifted his hands to the angel’s face, wiping his tears away with his thumbs.

“No, no sweetheart, I don’t want it for _that_\- I would never do that. I would _never_ leave you like that,” Aziraphale looked at him miserably, and oh how that look hurt his soul, “If Hell finds out about us, they’ll come after me. You know they will. If I had Holy Water, I could have a weapon, something to defend myself against them. That’s what I want it for.”

“But at what cost, Crowley? How can you guarantee that you won’t accidentally spill it on yourself in the process? That you won’t accidentally get yourself killed? Do you have _any _idea what this is doing to me? How much this _hurts _me? You forced my hand, Crowley, and that’s, that’s _not _what you _do _to someone you love-” His voice cut off with a sob, and Crowley gathered his despairing husband into his chest, holding him tightly while whispering _‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’_ in his ear.

“What if this was reversed?” Aziraphale whispered against his shoulder, “What if I asked you to give me Hellfire? How would you react?”

Crowley tensed at the idea. He imagined himself handing over a jar filled with one of the very few things that could permanently kill an angel into his beloved’s hands, and _hated _it. He would do anything to keep him as far away from that deadly flame, realization hitting him as to why Aziraphale had been so adamant about rejecting his plea for the thing that could forever end his existence.

“I’ll be careful,” Crowley offered, because even though he understood where Aziraphale was coming from, he couldn’t give up the Holy Water, “It won’t come in contact with me, ever. I promise.”

Aziraphale pulled back, tear-stained face breaking every part of Crowley, “You can’t promise me that, Crowley. We both know that.”

Crowley swallowed, gaze shifting away from Aziraphale because he knew he was right. There was no way he could realistically assure him that an accident wouldn’t happen, that he wouldn’t get caught in the cross fire of trying to save his life.

“I think- I think I better go.” Aziraphale detangled himself from Crowley, not looking at him as he opened the door and moved to get out.

“Angel, _please_…” His voice cracked and he hated that, but he couldn’t let Aziraphale just _leave_\- there was no guarantee that he would come back, that he _wasn’t _saying goodbye forever.

“This isn’t goodbye, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed, looking out the car door, “I _married _you, I’m not about to walk away from us I just- I just need some time.” With that he stepped out of the car, shutting the door and leaving Crowley behind with a broken heart.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Aziraphale didn’t answer the phone the first time Crowley called.

It had been months since they spoke, and yes that wasn’t a very long amount of time, but he missed his husband so much that it hurt. He hated the way they left things, hated the fact that Aziraphale had been hurting because of him, that it was his _fault _that things were the way they were. He had finally gathered enough courage to give Aziraphale a call; not to push him to forgive him, but to try to apologize for what he had done.

The second time he called, the phone dialed so long that Crowley was certain that Aziraphale wasn’t going to pick up, was about to end the call when he heard the familiar voice of Aziraphale pick up on the other end.

“A. Z. Fell Bookshop and Co., how can I help you today?”

“Angel. It’s me.” He paused, waited for Aziraphale to yell at him or for him to hang up, but instead a pregnant silence elapsed between them, making Crowley more nervous with each second that went by without being filled by words.

“I- I know you said that you needed time, and hell, I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but please, _please _hear me out.” He paused again, giving Aziraphale plenty of time to end the call.

When he didn’t, Crowley continued, “I’m sorry. It was truly shitty of me to sneak around you and not tell you the truth. You’re right. We’re married, I should’ve been honest with you, told you the reasons why I wanted it from the beginning. I’m so _so _sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to make everything such a bloody _mess_, didn’t mean to force you to give me something you never wanted me to have in the first place. That was never my intention, and I know that it doesn’t really matter because it happened anyway. I can’t even begin to describe just how much I’m sorry. Just-” Crowley sighed, giving himself a second to compose himself before he started crying again, “Look, Hell granted me permission to stay here, as long as I want. I was thinking of going to look at some flats to stay in. Somewhere in Mayfair, I think. I, I would love it if you came, y’know, help me pick a place out.”

Aziraphale remained silent on the other line for a while, making Crowley wonder if he had hung up a while ago and he had just failed to notice.

“Angel?”

“Pick me up tomorrow morning.”

_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_2019- Bandstand _

“Well? Any news?” Crowley asked casually, hands in his pockets while he stood staring at Aziraphale expectantly.

“Um, wha- what kind of news would that be?” Aziraphale hated this. Hated keeping things from Crowley, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world.

“Well, have you found the missing antichrist? Name, address, and shoe size yet?”

“Shoe size? Why- why would I have his shoe size?” Aziraphale laughed nervously.

“It’s a joke! I’ve got nothing either.” 

“Well, I don’t have anything. Obviously.” It took all of his strength not to wring his hands; it would give him away to Crowley, since he knew Aziraphale only did that when he was nervous.

“Are you feeling alright?” Crowley eyed him suspiciously, causing Aziraphale’s heart to pound faster.

“Yes! Perfectly fine! Why would you ask?” Another nervous laugh escaped him, and he clasped his hands together for the sake of doing something with them.

“Sweetheart, we’ve been married for sixty years. We’ve been together for nearly all of time. I _know _when you’re worried about something.” He sauntered his way closer to Aziraphale, causing him to swallow visibly.

“That’s ridiculous, I told you I’m fine!”

“You’re very obviously _not _fine, angel. Why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?” His face darkened suddenly, and Aziraphale feared that he realized he was lying, “Was it Gabriel? Did one of those blasted angels threaten you?”

“What? No, that’s absurd!” Aziraphale did his best to try to mask his fear, make it seem like Crowley was blowing this out of proportion.

Crowley studied him carefully, eyes scanning every inch of him before he nodded and began to calm down.

“Sorry, angel,” He reached up and rubbed his eyes, “This whole apocalypse business really has me stressed.”

Aziraphale felt himself soften, a small part of him wanting to confess everything to him. But he couldn’t. This was the only way to keep him safe, them _both _safe.

“Me too.” Aziraphale said sadly.

“So you don’t have any clues, no leads as to where the antichrist could be?” He eyed him carefully, no hint of mistrust on his face but rather desperation for a solution for the situation that they were in.

“No.” Aziraphale lied, finding it ironic that an angel was lying to a demon.

“_Fuck_.” He shook his head, walking to the opposite end of the bandstand with his hands on his head.

“Maybe- maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. With the Great Plan, and all.” Aziraphale said hopefully.

“_C’mon_ angel, not this again,” Crowley looked up at him sharply, “How could it be in _her_ plan to end the entire world just so our sides can decide whose dick is bigger?”

“_Crowley_,” Aziraphale admonished, “You know we can’t even begin to try to guess what the plan is. It’s ineffable.”

“Is it then? Well then, for the record, great postulant mangled bollocks to the Great _blasted _Plan!” He shouted towards the Heavens, and Aziraphale’s heart stuttered out of fear that Crowley would be killed for such a statement.

“May you be forgiven.” He choked out, not realizing their meaning before the words fell out of his mouth.

Crowley froze in his walk, looking as if Aziraphale had just shot him.

“Okay, something is _definitely _wrong with you. What’s going on Aziraphale?”

“For the last time, I said I’m _fine _Crowley! Just, stop pestering me. We can’t control what’s going to happen. Maybe we should…” He trailed off, biting his lip.

“Just what?” Crowley asked quietly, his face unreadable.

“Give up. Perhaps I can talk to Heaven, see if I can change their mind…”

“You really think they’re going to listen to you? Aziraphale, you’ve _tried _talking them out of this war plenty of times and where has that got you! _Nowhere_! At this point, either this all ends up in a pile of burning goo or we could go off together.” Crowley looked at him desperately, and Aziraphale knew that this was the demon’s last resort.

“Go off together?” Aziraphale squeaked, “Listen to yourself.” The venom in his voice wasn’t as strong as he would have liked it, only delivering a weak punch that barely had any effect on Crowley.

“How long have we been together? Six thousand years!”

“We are an angel and a demon! Maybe we should start _acting _like what we are!” Aziraphale could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, praying that he could keep himself together- at least until Crowley left.

“What in the bloody hell are you going on about? What’s gotten into you? You’re starting to sound like _them, _Aziraphale! Not the angel I fell in love with.”

That hurt Aziraphale, deeper than it should have. His coworkers were… not quite as angelic as they should be, Aziraphale felt, and the fact that Crowley would even begin to compare him to them caused anger to rise up in his chest.

“Is that so? Well, even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn’t tell you! We’re on opposite sides!”

“We’re on _our _side!” Crowley hissed, taking a step forward before stopping.

“There is no our side, Crowley! Not anymore. It’s over.”

Crowley went still again, looking absolutely stricken.

“No. No, you don’t mean that. You’re just angry-”

“I mean it, Crowley. I- this…” He trailed off, emotion cutting off his voice. He looked down at his hands, and began to pull off the gold band for the first time since he put it on.

“No,” Crowley choked out, practically running in front of him and grabbing Aziraphale’s hand to stop him, “No, you _promised _me, Aziraphale, you _promised _me an eternity. You can’t just back out of this because you’re upset, that’s not how this _works_.” He gripped his hands tighter, trying to get Aziraphale to look at him who was doing his best at looking at anything _but _him.

Aziraphale shook his head, “I can’t, Crowley- I _can’t_…” The first sob broke out of him, a pitiful sound that caused Crowley to cup Aziraphale’s face to comfort him.

“Can’t what?” His voice was unbearably soft, “Can’t what, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale finally lifted his head up to meet Crowley’s gaze, in just enough time to see the painful realization cross his face.

“Can’t love me anymore?” His voice sounded so frail, pain seeping through every syllable he spoke.

Aziraphale didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Could only give him a saddened look that whispered, _I’m sorry, I wish things were different, but they aren’t_.

Crowley nodded, tears starting to escape his covered yellow eyes as he let go of Aziraphale, slowly turning away as he walked away from his angel.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale said finally, voice cracking in several different ways.

The demon didn’t answer him; instead, Crowley left him behind on the bandstand, where he collapsed to the ground and let his heart break.

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Bus Scene _

The bus ride was oddly quiet. Well, perhaps not so odd; they had just successfully averted the Apocalypse (well, more like gently nudged the Apocalypse _not _to happen), and they both felt spent. After Adam changed his parentage and wished the Devil himself away, Aziraphale and Crowley had stood still at the airbase, not truly able to believe that they were safe, that they weren’t about to be ripped apart from each other. When the shock wore off, they turned to each other, embracing and laughing in relief. Aziraphale had pulled back, cupping the demon’s face and staring at him with all of the love he felt for him and the realization that it was over, that they didn’t have to hide anymore, that they could be _them_ again. For a moment, Crowley’s face reflected his, before his expression darkened, and he pulled back without a word.

Now, sitting here, in the cold, dark bus, all Aziraphale wanted was to hear Crowley’s voice, for him to say something sarcastic and make Aziraphale feel better again. Crowley, however, was slumped in his seat, staring out the window and leaning as far from Aziraphale as he could. He hated the space between them; it felt like an uncrossable barrier, a line drawn between them that hadn’t been there before. Aziraphale grabbed his hand, needing _something _of Crowley in that moment, to which the demon immediately accepted. Looking at them, you wouldn’t have even noticed it had happened; Crowley remained in the same position, not even turning to look at Aziraphale, and the angel stared forward, sneaking glances over at his husband every few seconds.

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. Crowley squeezed back. He just didn’t say anything.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cottage was exactly how they’d left it five years ago, but no one would ever guess it had been that long. No dust dared to pile upon the furniture, the window panes were just as clear as the day they’d bought it, and the air felt fresh, giving no indication that no living person had stepped foot in there since its celestial owners walked out together all those years ago. It had been Aziraphale who suggested that they should find a place for the both of them to run away to when they could spare time, and it had been Crowley who had found a place in the South Downs during the seventies and purchased it knowing Aziraphale would love it.

Walking in, though, the air between Aziraphale and Crowley felt… tense. Crowley still hadn’t said a word, had held Aziraphale’s hand until they reached the front door, releasing his hand to let them in.

“Want something to drink, Aziraphale? _Someone _knows I do.” Crowley practically barreled through the door, heading straight for the kitchen and going to the cabinet where they kept all their liquor.

Aziraphale followed him hesitantly, stopping at the island while Crowley poured them both a glass on the opposite side. He slid Aziraphale’s cup to him wordlessly, before taking a few sips out of his.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale started, unable to find the end of his sentence. He knew why Crowley was upset. He’d have to be an idiot _not _to know.

“Can we not do this now, Aziraphale? I just want to drink.” He chugged the rest of his glass down, pouring himself another generous portion.

“Crowley, talk to me. Don’t shut me out.” He reached his hand across the table, freezing halfway through as he realized that might not be the best idea.

“Oh, like you did?” His voice was sharp, anger dripping from each word, “What do you want me to say?” Aziraphale swallowed at those familiar words, the ones he’d spoken all the way back in 1967.

He looked up at him coldly, and though Aziraphale couldn’t see his eyes, he had no doubt they were glowing with anger and hurt.

“I’m sorry, Crowley. Really, I am. I said some awful things to you, things I wish more than anything that I could take back. I didn’t mean them, I really didn’t. I’m so sorry. I love you, Crowley. I’m, I’m sorry.” He looked at Crowley desperately, hoping that he could see just how earnestly and truly sorry he was.

Crowley stared at him, before placing his head in his hands and sinking into the countertop.

“Dear...?”

“_Don’t_,” Crowley’s voice came out thick, sounding like a man on the break of losing his poorly kept composure, “You threw me _aside, _Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s eyes flashed guiltily to his hands, self-hatred beginning to bubble up inside of him.

“I know.” His voice was soft, remorseful.

“You realized that we were losing, and you threw yourself with what you thought was the winning team.”

“Now wait, Crowley-”

“That’s what this feels like,” His head shot up suddenly, his face looking so tortured that it broke Aziraphale in so many different places, “You must realize that, right? You have no one else to turn to. We’re _really _on our own side now, and because of that, you’re forcing yourself to make it up to me not because you actually feel _bad, _but because I’m all that you have left!”

“Crowley, now you _know _that’s not true-”

“Do I? Do I really, Aziraphale? Because a month ago, if someone were to ask me who you would chose, Heaven or me, I would have said me, hands down. Because we have been through _so damn much _together. We have loved each other for _lifetimes_ Aziraphale! I thought I could trust you to _stay_! You _promised _to be by my side, no matter _what _happened, but when it came down to it, you chose _them_! _Them_, those egotistical _bastards_! Do you know how many times you would come home crying after your meetings with them? They would _break _you, Aziraphale, and there was me, your dutiful_ husband_, who _comforted _you and _put you back together again_, no matter _what_, because I _love _you and would do _anything _for you! And at the end of the day that wasn’t enough. You chose _them _over _me _Aziraphale. How could you do that? How could you do that to me?” He stared at him so helplessly, so full of pain that it broke Aziraphale’s heart.

“Crowley I know. It was wrong and stupid and selfish of me. I was so, so scared. We couldn’t find the antichrist in time, we had no way of preventing the Apocalypse, and I just thought, if we could go back to our sides, pretend that we never happened, you would be safe. Because at the end of the day, if all else failed, I just wanted you to be safe,” Aziraphale was crying, not even trying to hide it anymore, “And I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior-”

“You’re bloody right it doesn’t!” Crowley was yelling now, hurt boiling into an uncontrollable rage, “You’re such a hypocrite! Do you know that? When I tried to rob that church, you down right _scolded _me for keeping things from you! You said that we needed to be _honest _with each other, to let the other know how we were _feeling_, and then you go and went back on your own word!”

“I know, I know, _believe _me I know-”

“I was scared too, Aziraphale! I was _terrified_! I knew that without the boy, it was a hopeless endeavor, but you know what? I didn’t care. I promised you that I would fight for us, and I _did_, I was ready to go out, hand in hand with you, because there was _no way _I was ever going to join Hell’s rank over you. And you know what you did? You _gave up on us!_ After all you said, all those years of telling me I was your everything, it turned out to be a lie! What am I to you, Aziraphale? And _please_ answer me honestly this time.” Crowley’s expression turned cold, cutting into Aziraphale like a knife.

“You’re- you’re my _husband, _Crowley! You _know _that! You _know _that I love you!” Aziraphale’s voice, though confidant, came out desperate.

“No, no I _don’t _because _you _told me that you didn’t want me! That you didn’t _want _to love me anymore! You gave me your love and took it away, just like _her_. You broke your _vows _Aziraphale, you broke _me_! And then, you had the _audacity_ to force me to try to come up with something by saying you’d never speak to me again, _as if I hadn’t already lost you!_” The anger was starting to seep out, pain settling into his last words.

“Crowley, darling, _please-_”

“You almost took your _ring _off!” Crowley threw his sunglasses off, and oh how that made everything so much worse, because now Aziraphale could see just how wet Crowley’s cheeks were, how his eyes were fully blown, no white showing through those yellow spheres that were enveloped in so much pain it was practically leaking out of him, “You would have if I didn’t stop you! Do you know what that did to me? It _crushed _me, Aziraphale! It felt like _Falling _again! You were supposed to _love _me, Aziraphale! You were supposed to _care_! Why did you do that to me? _How _could you do that to me? Why, why did you…” His voice cut off as he sobbed, collapsing into himself as the pain became too much to bear.

In a heartbeat, Aziraphale was at his side, pulling him into his chest. Crowley pressed his face into his shoulder, his hands pulling fistfuls of his jacket into his hands. Each sob cut into Aziraphale deeply, each cry and pitiful sound a punch in his gut. Aziraphale placed on of his hands on Crowley’s back, the other one making its way to Crowley’s hair, running his fingers through it as he comforted him.

“I’m so so sorry Crowley,” It was a miracle that he could speak, his voice thicker than honey, “I never meant to hurt you so terribly so, but I did, and it’s inexcusable. I know. I hate myself for making you feel this way. I don’t deserve you; I never did. I spent my entire life promising you that it was only us, that it would only be us, but when the time came for me to pick you I panicked and chose wrong. I’m a coward, I know it. _God _do I know it. I should have stayed with you, under that bandstand, I should have held your hand and stayed with you, faced whatever happened with you. But I didn’t, and I can assure you that I will regret that decision until I die. But Crowley, oh, dear Crowley, love of my life, I promise you, if you’ll have me, I will choose you. For the rest of eternity, I will choose you. No matter _what._” He tightened his grip on Crowley, hoping that it would help show that he was serious, that _this _was serious.

Crowley cried on his shoulder for a long time, with each passing minute causing Aziraphale to be more and more determined to be better for Crowley. He knew it would take time, that it would take time for Crowley to forgive him (_if _he ever did), but no matter what happened, regardless of whether or not Crowley took him back, he would spend whatever remained of his life making it up to him.

When the sobs slowed and the tears dried, Aziraphale felt Crowley start to go limp in his arms, the demon all but asleep in his grasp. Once he took notice, Aziraphale carefully lead him up the stairs to their room, placing Crowley down on the bed gently. Crowley sought out the blankets immediately, and once Aziraphale was certain that Crowley was situated, he turned to leave the room. He stopped, however, when Crowley’s hand shot out at him, grabbing his wrist and preventing him from leaving.

“Stay?” Crowley’s voice was like sandpaper, harsh and rough from the emotions he’d let spill out of him.

“I, didn’t think you’d want me to.” Aziraphale looked down guiltily.

“_Please_, don’t leave me again, angel.” Aziraphale felt as if his very soul was cracking, like his very essence was being ripped out from him as he stared at the crumpled form of Crowley, who sounded so weak, so brittle, his beautiful and exhausted yellow eyes pleading him to stay.

“Of course, my love. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for however long you want me.”

With that, Aziraphale crawled in the bed with him, and Crowley immediately sought him out, curling himself around the angel and resting his head in the crook of his neck. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him tightly, hoping to convey that he was here, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

_\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_A few months after the Not Apocalypse _

“Are you _sure _it’s back here, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, sifting through the countless number of books on one of the shelves in the backroom.

“I’m quite certain, yes. Keep searching!” Aziraphale shouted from the other room where he was placing more books in boxes.

Crowley groaned, but reached higher for another shelf, trying to find the book that Aziraphale so desperately could not part with once they officially moved into their cottage.

His fingertips brushed something that definitely did _not _feel like the back of a well-worn book. He frowned, grasping at the mysterious object and pulling it down so he could see it better. Confusion grew in him as he saw that out of all things Aziraphale could have been hiding back here, it was a _shoebox_. Crowley knew the bookshop better than anything; he knew it like the back of his hand, had spent so many years there that he could walk it blindfolded and not run into anything.

Which was what made it all the more shocking that he had literally never seen this box before in the entire time that Aziraphale had owned the shop. Maybe it was new? No, it looked old, well abused. This had been here for quite some time. Crowley sat on the ground, opening the box to reveal its contents. It took Crowley a few seconds before he realized that he actually recognized everything inside of it- a watch that he hadn’t seen since the forties. A small collection of letters written over the course of fifty years. A pair of sunglasses that somehow managed to outlive Rome. A single black feather, looking as lively and intact since the day he plucked it from his wings.

“Crowley, my dearest, have you found-” Aziraphale froze when he saw Crowley, his hand still delicately holding a black feather that used to belong to him.

“You kept all of these?” He looked up sharply, his voice oddly quiet.

Aziraphale blinked, before a warm smile planted itself on his lips as he joined Crowley on the ground.

“Of course. They were gifts from you, what else did you expect me to do with them?” He took the feather from Crowley’s hand, his eyes delighting in fond memories.

“I, erm, dunno. Thought you would have thrown them away or lost them.” To be honest, he never really thought about what Aziraphale would _do_ with them once he gave them away.

“_Throw them away_? Crowley how could I? These were the only things that kept me sane when we were apart.” He placed the feather back in the box carefully, hand resting on its contents briefly before he drew it back.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, disbelief written all over his face. The past few months since the Apocalypse had been rough, after everything Aziraphale did, had put a strain on their marriage. Aziraphale had placed doubt in Crowley’s head that had never been there before, and though they were working through it, though they were almost back to the way things were, Crowley still couldn’t help but wonder that if Heaven came down and offered Aziraphale his position back, would he leave Crowley behind without a second thought? It terrified him, the notion that Aziraphale could take everything from him again.

In truth, Aziraphale had caused Crowley to wonder if his husband had actually ever loved him, that he wasn’t just something for Aziraphale to pass the monotony of eternity with.

Here, though, in this box, was proof that he _did _love Crowley. If he truly hadn’t cared, he would have thrown those things away, discarded them as easily as an old newspaper. He had kept them, though, and kept them over the years and made sure that they were well preserved, that they were _safe_, hiding them in the back so nothing could ever happen to them. It was proof that their entire relationship hadn’t been one-sided, that all of his memories were real, that _Aziraphale _was real.

Crowley felt his cheeks dampen, but couldn’t find the urge to care if Aziraphale saw.

“Darling, are you alright?” Aziraphale reached forward, removing his sunglasses and blinking at the way Crowley’s eyes were lit up with pure, unadulterated love, all directed at him.

“You love me,” Crowley said, his voice cracking in several places, “You really love me.”

A tender, fond look settled on Aziraphale’s face, before he cupped Crowley’s cheek and said, “I do. I love you with all of my being, Crowley.”

As quick as a viper, he leaned down and kissed Aziraphale, releasing all the relief and pure _joy _of his realization into his lips. Aziraphale kissed him back, and for the first time in months, Crowley knew that the love he felt pouring into him was real, that he really was Aziraphale’s world, that Aziraphale _wanted _him and _cared _for him.

It was an intoxicating feeling.

Aziraphale pulled back first, slowly, and Crowley could see in Aziraphale’s eyes that he knew exactly how he was feeling, could see the relief swimming in those ocean eyes. Aziraphale turned his gaze to the gold band on his hand that was resting on Crowley’s face, and Crowley knew what Aziraphale was going to do before he said anything.

“I think,” He said, pulling the ring off his right hand and sliding it to his left, “That this is a little overdue, don’t you think?”

Crowley laughed, and followed Aziraphale’s suit, moving his matching gold band to his ring finger.

“_Extremely._” He pulled Aziraphale in for another brief kiss, before pulling back to rest his head on the angel’s shoulder and wrapping his long arms around his frame.

Aziraphale placed his own arms around Crowley, and for the entirety that they held each other, all Crowley could think was _this is _my _husband, he’s _mine. _He’ll always be _mine.

He was right. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr as @ellewrites4


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